Things are collapsing in the final volume of The Dust Trilogy, the second of Philip Pullman's grand trilogies set in a universe that appears, here more than ever, as a intense and slanted version of our own. Organizations are weakening, or reassembling themselves along unfamiliar and troubling lines. An unseen force "is destroying the air and the seasons"; at the same time, "money's going bad, and no one knows why". Control is shifting from authorities, and accumulating in the halls of religious leaders, the vaults of conglomerates, the grasp of mobs. "Some force is at work, silently, gradually", says merchant a merchant figure, keeping a observant eye on the Silk Roads from his post in an city cafe. "Aspects we thought were firm and durable are weakening and failing."
The Central Mystery and Her Quest
Exactly what that force might be, and methods to fight it, is the mystery that drives The Rose Field, which picks up where The Secret Commonwealth left off. This is, reportedly, Pullman's final foray into the intricately constructed, infinitely beguiling universe he first unveiled 30 years ago, with the release of the first trilogy. It's a realm whose geography aligns with that of the real world, but whose history diverges and shifts with ours; where the humans appear and reason and behave like us, but are paired by external spirits, beings in creature form; where the skies are teeming with witches and gryphons, but below, vehicles are taken and drinks is consumed, and middle-aged academics carry fancy shopping bags. Lyra, whom we first encountered as a young girl in the first trilogy, and then revisited as a baby in the prequel, the origin story with which Pullman began the series, is now a mature individual: still clearly the sharp and determined main character of the prior volumes, but more mature, more sorrowful, more careful, more doubtful. This restraint is heightened by her division from her soul companion, Pantalaimon – but it was also, unexpectedly, the catalyst which made him desert her in the first place.
Converging Storylines
The daemon's resolve to depart in quest of that innocent part of the heroine which she seems to have lost (an quality which he symbolizes as her "imagination"), and her quest to reunite with him, were the catalysts of the prior book, which saw Lyra undertake a wandering trek across the continent and into the Caucasus, encountering with amazement and risk on the way. But from the start, deeper currents were in motion, and sinister powers at work. The church authority – the church's controlling power, and Pullman's deliciously chilling representation of rigid, administrative wickedness – is under fresh command, and asserting its power. Lyra's uncle – our protagonist's relative, who holds responsible her for his family member's death – has positioned himself into the office of leader of the church's governing body, and is determined on using his recently acquired power to expand the institution's rule. Another protagonist, who carried infant the heroine to security along a overflowing river as an child in the prequel, is now an Oxford don with a secondary role in intelligence work: he is dispatched to a key location to learn more about his intentions. And underlying all of this is the enigma surrounding the rare and costly rose oil which manifests in some way to be the source of a societal and economic disturbance spreading out from that area. The oil is regarded by certain groups as a tradeable product, by alternate groups as a research-based or spiritual phenomenon, and by yet others – the extremist "mountain dwellers" – as a wellspring of darkness; an challenge that must be eradicated. The question of where it comes from, its meaning, and if it should be removed or protected is escalating in importance.
Similar to the original trilogy, our protagonist's deeds, and her future, are demonstrated to be deeply entwined with the future of the universe
In The Secret Commonwealth, these narratives ran mostly in tandem. In this final book, they merge. Similar to His Dark Materials, the protagonist's actions and her fate are revealed to be inextricably entwined with the future of the world. Her personal journey to reunite with her daemon and rediscover her creativity becomes the key battleground in a broader conflict with an controlling regime which, as such regimes often attempt, is striving to suppress independence of thinking, originality and culture: all the inner, rebellious ways in which individuals can be independent.
Atmospheric Fissures and Philosophical Struggles
The story starts with the unveiling of a set of unusual fissures in the fabric of the planet's sky: gateways that look to give on to different dimensions. A particular opening appears to be the source of the highly contested mystical extract. The Magisterium, with Delamare at its head, labels these windows as a problem to the church's orthodoxy and endeavors to destroy them. As our protagonist begins to turn away from inflexible rationalism and revert to feeling, however, her belief that these locations must be defended – that their significance and what they offer is mysteriously essential – grows. "The substance, or the substance, or the imagination, or the field of roses, or whatever we name it," she says, "we require it." The stage for a philosophical struggle between purity and experience is prepared.
Narrative Pacing and Protagonist Growth
At over six hundred pages, The Rose Field|this volume|the
